


The Most Perfect Cinnamon Roll

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternative Universe - Non-Human, Bagels, Connor is a Bagel, M/M, Oliver is a Cinnamon Roll, just for fun, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Coliver Bagel!AU that no one asked for. (They are actual breakfast pastries. You've been warned...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Perfect Cinnamon Roll

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. That's right. This is getting posted to ao3. I hope this is my legacy. 
> 
> +
> 
>  
> 
> [originally posted](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/135289250703/the-coliver-bagel-au-that-no-one-asked-for-aka)

_He’s so perfect._

From his spot at the back of the display case, Connor watched Oliver laughing and joking with the others in the front. The front of the case was for the pastries. Muffins with sugared tops, coffee cakes with creamy glaze, and Oliver. Oliver, the most perfect cinnamon roll Connor had ever seen. The breakfast pastry that looked more delicious than them all.

Connor knew a common bagel like himself shouldn’t be here. He was straying too close to the front. He wasn’t even a cinnamon toast bagel or Asiago cheese; one of those who could be excused when they wandered away from the baskets in the back.

Connor was an onion bagel. A bagel no one wanted, at least not for long. He left a sour taste in the mouth and everyone who sampled almost always seemed to regret it. He wasn’t anyone’s first choice. He wasn’t the reason people stopped in the bakery.

Looking at Oliver - the graceful fall of glaze around him and the beautiful streaks of sugar and cinnamon swirls - Connor knew he didn’t deserve to be in the front. His place was in back, in the dark baskets with the rest of the second choices.

So Connor turned and rolled away, missing how Oliver watched him go with longing.

-

“Just talk to him,” Michaela whispered in Oliver’s ear.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” Michaela shoved at him with one of her sharp edges.

“Ow! Michaela!” Oliver knew that inside Michaela was soft and sweet but those brownie corners could be sharp.

“Go!” she insisted, pushing him again. “Go after him. I’ll keep an eye out.”

With a resolving breath, Oliver scooted as quick as he could after Connor. However, the smooth granite countertop of the front display case eventually gave way to a rough, uneven work surface and slowed Oliver down. He wasn’t used to having such a rough and choppy surface underneath him. His edges were soft not tough and crusty like bagels. Oliver was forced to move more cautiously and watched helplessly as Connor rolled farther and farther away from him.

“Connor!” he called out in desperation. He wasn’t going to catch up. Connor was getting away and Oliver knew from the look he’d seen in Connor’s gaze that the bagel wasn’t going to be visiting ever again. “Connor! Wait!”

Across the divide, Connor heard his name being called and turned back to see Oliver struggling. He rolled as fast as he could to Oliver’s side. “Oliver?”

“Don’t go!” Oliver wheezed out. In his rush, he’d caught on an edge and pulled too hard. He could feel part of him had torn away and feared he was starting to unravel.

Connor saw the hanging bit and pressed hard against Oliver’s side, trying to get the piece to restick. “What were you thinking?” Connor demanded, worry and panic making is voice harsh.

Oliver’s breath was shallow but he already could feel the glaze helping the piece rebond and relaxed a bit. “I wanted to see you,” he whispered, leaning back against Connor. “I always want to see you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Connor bristled. He pressed harder against Oliver’s side and they were silent for a moment.

Oliver would have been content to stand just like that, leaning against Connor’s steady weight, for longer but eventually he pulled away. “I think I’m okay now.”

“You sure.”

“Yeah.” Oliver looked down at the piece that had been hastily pressed back on. It was secure now but wasn’t as neatly attached as it had been. His glaze had smeared and dripped off in places. In his rush, some of his cinnamon swirl had scraped off. He snorted out a humorless laugh. “I’m not perfect anymore.”

Connor’s gaze was steady and honest. “You will always be perfect, Oliver.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
